He suddenly lunged forward and crushed Ziye into an embrace again, the force so intense it nearly snapped her delicate frame in two. That embrace lasted precisely three seconds.

During those three seconds, Ziye remained silent, maintaining her signature 'poker face' quality, allowing him to vent his emotions freely. Three seconds later, An Junlie had regained control.

He stepped back with gentlemanly grace, offering a sincere apology: "Thank you. Thank you for bringing sunshine into the darkest moment of my life.

Goodbye." With that, he turned and strode toward the mecha with long, powerful steps. Ziye watched silently as he entered the cockpit and powered up the machine, feeling a faint, hidden ache deep within her core.

This parting was for the best; they were not walking the same path, holding different pursuits. An Junlie possessed capability, serving as the commander of a top legion, his future dazzlingly bright.

If he desired, he could easily live a life of luxury unimaginable to ordinary people. She, however, had a singular goal and would not halt for reward or enjoyment.

Until she exacted revenge and annihilated the very source of her hatred, nothing would make her **. An Junlie, I am sorry.

The nickel-colored mecha quickly vanished into the horizon. Ziye stood frozen in the courtyard watching, feeling like a hollowed-out rag doll—motionless, wordless.

Little Sprout bounced out of the house, landing precisely on her head and tumbling around. "Master, has the alien left?" Receiving no response for a long moment, it shifted to face Ziye and saw tears tracing paths down her cheeks, some slipping along her jawline before falling.

Crying? Little Sprout watched silently, its system spontaneously generating an explanation: The congestion of tiny blood vessels around the eyes, coupled with the contraction of minute muscles protecting the eyes, triggers the lacrimal glands to secrete tears.

But why were the blood vessels congested? The tiny leaf atop Little Sprout’s head completed a silent question mark.

"Bean, the alien is gone. He left," Ziye mumbled, repeating the phrase over and over as she watched his mecha disappear, the world seeming to sink back into gray once more.

She was alone again. Teacher was gone, and now An Junlie was gone too.

They had both left. She felt as if she were standing in the middle of a bustling market, people brushing past her, coming and going, yet no one pausing by her side.

She desperately wanted someone to talk to, she truly wanted to... Ziye covered her face and sank to the ground, sobbing softly.

The last time Ziye had been this desolate was when Teacher passed away. It had taken many days of coaxing before she slowly recovered.

What should it do this time? What could it do?

Sit with her through the night in the mourning hall? Instigate her to visit Old Dog’s place and tease the puppies?

Tell her that death is a normal aspect of life, that the world's population needs balance, where there is birth there must be death? Bustle around building mechas until they were utterly exhausted, forgetting to eat?

... Too many options; it couldn't recall which method had succeeded in cheering her up before.

While frantically searching its memory banks for successful comfort protocols, it rolled around on her, trying to catch her attention, but she ignored its presence and slowly stood up, moving toward the house. Little Sprout hovered in mid-air, lonely and dejected, shaking its head.

To be completely ignored—how heartbreaking... Life had to continue, even without An Junlie.

Yet, eating the last meal he had prepared, she could taste nothing in it. It was as if his departure had carried the flavor away with him.

If one lives alone perpetually, even if occasional fits of madness occur, one eventually grows accustomed to it. But once a person acclimates to life within a group, returning to solitude proves devastatingly difficult; the agony of loneliness becomes unbearable.

It was much like love: once you grow used to another's presence, losing them is a rending experience. Humans find it easy to advance but hard to retreat.

She chewed the already cold breakfast flavorlessly, looking at the spotless, orderly kitchen cleaned by the automatons. Suddenly, there wasn't a single trace of him left.

She abruptly dropped her utensils and bolted from the dining area in a frenzy, running toward An Junlie’s room. Her home certainly didn't lack rooms.

She had instructed the robots to simply clean out one room for him to use when he arrived, never having bothered to inspect it herself. Now, wanting to see it, she realized she could no longer see any trace of his existence there.

The robots had tidied everything. Bedding had been washed or, if not needing washing, folded neatly and stored.

His clothes—only a few emergency sets kept in the mecha hangar—were all gone, taken with him. His toiletries had been entirely removed by the cleaning units.

The entire room was as pristine as an unoccupied hotel suite. An Junlie had left absolutely no trace.

She rushed to the closet, pulled out the duvet, and hugged it, sniffing deeply. There wasn't even much of his scent left on the fabric.

The household automaton stood nearby and reminded her in its emotionless voice, "Mistress, the duvet cover has been sent for washing. It will be out of the laundry in fifteen minutes." Ziye slumped onto the floor.

The final thread of connection snapped. The cleaning was so thorough, so absolute, that it seemed as if he had never set foot on Silver Rune Star.

Ziye wiped her face, returned to her own room, and threw herself onto the soft bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Seeing her mournful expression, Little Sprout chirped encouragingly from the bedside, "Ziye, Ziye, let's go hunt in the primeval forest to the southwest.

Didn't you say you wanted to build a biological mecha?" Ziye did not respond. Undeterred, Little Sprout tried again, "Master, Master, I've drafted a new training system, making a game-like monster-slaying mode.

Do you want to try it?" Ziye grabbed the duvet and pulled it over her head. Little Sprout was stumped.

It rolled glumly atop her covers. "Ziye, say something.

Old Dog’s Doberman just had puppies. I really want to go see them." Ziye took a deep, ragged breath, rolled over, and buried her face into the duvet.

Still persistent, Little Sprout opened a light screen on its own and began searching for Ziye’s symptoms. After a while, it finally found relevant data and inquired, "Ziye, do you have a sort of sour, aching feeling in your heart?" Ziye grunted dully.

Little Sprout pressed on, "And when you can't see him, do you miss him terribly, but when you do see him, do you deliberately ignore him?" Ziye couldn't even be bothered to grunt in affirmation. Little Sprout took her silence as confirmation and burst out laughing, burrowing into the covers and rubbing against her cheek.

"Ziye, that's the feeling of being in love, you idiot!" Ziye nearly choked. In love?

Go away! To shake off the gloom as quickly as possible, Ziye decided to heed Little Sprout's advice: forget An Junlie.

To forget him, she resolved to go out for some fresh air. After fiddling with the Silver Rune map for a long time to confirm a destination, Ziye ordered the robots to pack the necessary supplies and set a course for the Death Forest region in the southwest.

Due to the sparse population, the Death Zone exuded a purely natural, untamed atmosphere inside and out, screaming one message: Humans Keep Out!